


Let History Take it's course

by Dancingwithstarlightatmidnight



Category: Phan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingwithstarlightatmidnight/pseuds/Dancingwithstarlightatmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Howell is a young man living in 2515, and a little too curious for his own good. He discovers a secret that could alter the way the future is laid out. <br/>Phil Lester is sharp-tongued boy living in the roaring 20s. He is the next victim for a murderer that would still be at large if he were killed.</p><p>Enter the TTRS, or Time Travel Rescue Service, who swoop in and take them out of their times and into the worm hole they call home. </p><p>Together in this removal protection program, they begin to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rescues

**Author's Note:**

> Look up "Booty Swing" by Parov Stelar while you read Phil's bit!!!

(Dan's POV)

To say I was incredibly nosy was an understatement.  
Even to say that I've gotten myself into a big mess would be an even bigger one.

The president of my sector, President Mel, was up to something. I knew he was.  
So I decided to do a bit of investigating.  
After his office closed, I grabbed my OmniPack, the multi-purpose electronic of our era, and made my way there.

The building was suspiciously under guarded; one zap from the OmniPack's taser and the three outdoor guards were out like a light.

The door swung open with a swipe of one of the unconscious guard's cards. I waited, but no alarms sounded.

"Okay Dan, you've got this," I whispered to myself.

***

Upon reaching Mr. Mel's office, again, suspiciously unlocked, I shifted through his desk looking for something that proved my suspicions correct.

At the bottom of the top drawer was a file, clearly handwritten.

OmniPacks must be issued to all of important social standing if this will work. At the okay from me, they will be activated and total control will be active.

"Shit!" I whispered, looking down at my device.

I needed to tell someone!

Standing up, I began to rush out of the room before something hit the back of my head. 

"Ow!"  
Upon turning around, standing directly behind me, were two men dressed in fancy suits.

"Daniel Howell you're coming with us. We can't have you disrupting history."

Before I could get a word out, they grabbed my arms and the world went black.

\---------------

(Phil's POV)

"Well ho there, don't you look just dapper?"

I looked over my shoulder to see a man that looked considerably older tailing directly behind me.

I rolled my eyes. "Beat it, bimbo."

The man sauntered forward and grabbed my shoulders, turning me completely around.

"You're not going anywhere. Lets go for a ride, shall we?"

My eyes widened as I struggled more. "No, no!"

He shoved a fist into my mouth to stifle my screaming, and dragged me into his idling car.

"MMMNH!"

The man's hand briefly left my mouth before being quickly replaced by another.  
Biting down extremely hard didn't serve any purpose other than giving me a headache.

Someone took my arms and tied them behind my back while I struggled hopelessly.

In the end, they got what they wanted and had me bound and gagged.

The car started up with a clank and blumbered presumably down the street.

Fighting seemed like swatting a fly to these people; the man sitting next to me didn't even flinch when I attempted to kick his shoulder.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, my voice was hoarse from all the screaming, rendering me quiet.

The two men sighed in relief as the car was finally silent.

Their guard was down; now was my chance.  
Immediately, I launch for the door and frantically pound at the windows.

The car swerved suddenly and my face smashed into the window.  
I groaned in pain.

The car skidded to a stop, and the driver angrily got out and stormed to my side, pulling the door open.

I was kicked out by the man sitting next to me and into the rocks beside the road.

"I was planning on making this classy; you know, dump you in the Thames," one says, taking a step towards me with a knife. "But now you're deciding to be a little bimbo."

The second man creeped forward as well, brandishing a baseball bat.  
"Come on, Johnny, let's bump him off already."

Whimpering, I began to scoot backwards as fast as I could, only to be immediately grabbed by the knife holding guy.

"Nononono! You aren't going anywhere baby."

Wicked smiles spread across the two men's faces like wildfire.

I'm done for, I think sadly.

I close my eyes just as the baseball bat is about to come in contact with my body, waiting for the pain to erupt. But nothing happened. Cracking an eye open, I realize I'm in a long white tiled hallway, free from all bonds.

"Phil Lester?"

I jump at the sound of my name.  
"Y-yes?"

A woman in a very businesslike pantsuit smiles down at me, offering a hand. 

"Welcome to the Time Travel Rescue Service."

\---------------


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil Meet

(Dan's POV)

After my arrival, I went through a series of surveys (name, what time period, family, etc), barely seeing another living soul.

Finally, a woman walked in and declared that I was done. She led me into the hall where another boy about my age stood.   
His black hair contrasted well with his pale skin, and I couldn't deny that he was hot.   
Like me, he was wearing scrubs.

The other man's eyes scanned unashamedly up and down my body.

"You're very hotsy-totsy," he whispered flirtatiously.

I looked up to the guide, not really understanding him.

She gave me an apologetic look. "This is Phil. He's a would-be victim of The Butcher from the historical 1920s."

The other boy didn't seem fazed by my confusion, as he continued to shamelessly check me out.

"Stop circling me! What were you a vulture in another life?"

Phil let out a condescending noise. "Aw come on baby, cut the baloney, yeah?"

"I have no idea what you're saying," 

"Why don't you come find out what other parts of me are saying?"

The guide pushed Phil away from me. "Enough! That's enough flirting."

Phil smirked. "Yeah Mr. Future, bank's closed."

"For a guy who almost got murdered, you seem to be pretty goddamn annoying." I managed through clenched teeth.

He cooed.

"Guys, enough. You need to go to the cafeteria and get acquainted with everyone. Both of you."

With one last glare in Phil's direction, I followed the signs on the sterile walls to my destination, the sound of boots stomping across the floor behind me.

\---------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone get my Anastasia Reference


	3. The Orientation

(Phil's POV)

I followed Mr. "Dan from the future" down the boring white hallway to the supposed cafeteria.

It threw me off guard how futuristic this room looked; did those chairs just spin?! Is that a beverage dispensing machine?! How did those doors open by themselves?!

I couldn't bring myself to take another step into the strange room.  
Dan noticed and stopped as well, snorting.

"Oh lay off." I replied, trying to sound intimidating but it coming out more as a whisper.

The room was an impossible shade of white that hurt to look at for too long, and everyone in the room looked extremely out of place.

He rolled his eyes and walked away, seating himself immediately down at a table of random people.  
Trying to walk it off, I crossed the room to the buffet the food was being served from. I couldn't deny that while I didn't like Dan much (while he was pleasing to the eye) it hurt that he abandoned me. This was all such future baloney to me; this probably looked prehistoric to him!

I grabbed a tray and moved down the line, staring at the weird foods they had out.

"Excuse me, erm, miss, what are these?" I point to the main section. "Meat slices?"

The woman, Camille, as her name tag says, gives me a sympathetic smile.  
"I had trouble with that as well when I first arrived. They are called 'Hamburgers' ." 

"They make you do work here?" I grimace. "It hardly seems fair, since they kidnapped me and all!"  
Camille simply giggles and places said "Hamburger" on my tray.

"They do not make you, but you will find it is the only way of busying yourself."  
Green beans are placed next to "Hamburger".

I laugh. "You slay me!"

Her face twists into one of confusion. "When are you from...?"

"Phil. Phil Lester. I'm from 1921."

"Camille Lebfaret, 1791."

~

"Here at the TTRS, we like to provide a... Cultured, experience. For rooming,  a past must room with a future, and vice versa. You've already been given a tag that states which you are. Partner up!"

Camille looks at me sadly from across the table, holding up a tag with PAST in bold black letters.

I hold mine up back at her.  
A hand is suddenly on my shoulder and pulling me away from the table I was sat at.

I yank it away and spin around angrily, only to find a nervous looking Dan.

"Canyoubemypartnerphil?"


	4. The Suspicion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hella short soz

"So what it is that you are saying is that the man whom was a complete- pardon my language, whapper, asked to be your roommate?"

Phil nodded in agreement to Camille's question, taking a sip out of his coffee.

"That is very strange. Maybe he fancies you."

Phil sputtered out a laugh, setting down his cup with a sloshing thump.

"I'll take you as a non-believer, then?"

"No way!"

Camille smirked as if she knew something Phil didn't. "You know, Allye from 2015 told me about something called a 'ship'..."

Phil made a face. "What in the world is that?"

"It is when you wish two people to be together."

The man stared at Camille for a long while before it clicked in his head. "Ohhhhh no. Nonono! You're nuts, Camille!"

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were confused: 
> 
> Dan = future  
> Phil = 20s
> 
> I don't even know where I got this idea from
> 
> Yes I know this is kind of pulp but I was trying to get through the boring opening stuff.
> 
> I looked up 20s slang and APPARENTLYYYY "quiff" meant prostitute. Hm.


End file.
